


Love letters to Haruhi

by Cmay



Series: Love Letters [2]
Category: Ouran High School Host Club - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-13
Updated: 2019-09-13
Packaged: 2020-10-17 22:13:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20628362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cmay/pseuds/Cmay
Summary: The host club is dead?! It's true! Haruhi agrees to help empty music room #3 but while she's cleaning she stumbles across something very interesting involving one tall bespectacled accountant. She doesn't quite understand what it is, but taking a leaf from the twin's mischief-making manual she dives headfirst into finding the answers.





	Love letters to Haruhi

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, lovelies! This is 2 part of 3 - I have written a series of "love letter" stories about different leading ladies from three of my favorite anime and the OTPs I love. (Soul Eater, Ouran Highschool Host Club, and Inuyasha) You don't have to read all three, they are completely stand-alone, but they are based on the same concept. They are short and sweet but I'd love for you to read all three. Unlike my last crazy long story: Only a memory away (that legit got away from me, but I love)...I gave myself an 8,000-word limit as a challenge in response to it. I'm a new writer and I'd love feedback or comments! I will post the last of the stories soon, and will update each to link the others. I hope you like it! ~ Cmay

Haruhi stood alone in the large, brightly lit, pink and cream-colored music room number three at Ouran academy with a large metal cart next to her. It had been three years since she had stepped foot in this room. Three years since she had graduated and left the Host club for good. Her undergraduate studies were almost complete. She was far ahead of schedule to start law school since she was able, with her scholarship, to double up on classes during summer breaks. She owed a lot to the club for that. If she hadn’t been able to make the connections she had in the four years she attended Ouran, no matter how good her grades, she would never have been at the top of the list to obtain the current scholarship she had. She still didn’t know who had been responsible for meddling and getting her pushed to the front of the line. Something which had annoyed her at first. Now, she couldn’t help but smile and send up a silent thank you to each of the six handsome rich boys she had become so close to over the years and was lucky enough to call friends.   
  
A week ago she had been surprised to get a call from Tamaki’s father asking her if she would be willing to come and help clean out the Host club storage and move the boxes to a different room or get rid of things. Since most of the items stored there belonged to the seven of them he had figured they would want to handle the disposal and knew Haruhi would be best for the job. When she had initially found out from Kyoya about the death of the host club, weeks earlier, she was saddened to hear that after they had all graduated, the club petered out and died within two years. Haruhi had honestly been upset. Though with her studies she couldn’t find the time to give it much more thought than a passing one. So she had easily agreed to help Mr. Suoh when he'd asked. Tamaki however, after hearing the news, had called them all tirelessly every day for a month trying to ‘fix’ the problem and keep the club running. Though when Kyoya had mentioned that the club was financially beyond saving, and maybe it was a good thing it didn’t continue since after all, they were the best hosts there ever were, Tamaki, quite broken-hearted, finally agreed.  
  
Haruhi sighed and looked around at the large room as she pulled her long chocolate brown hair back and up into a messy ponytail. Memories of her days here serving tea to wealthy debutantes or heiresses, being yanked to and fro by a couple of mischievous red-headed twins, dashing constant awkward fatherly advances, appeasing a sad little Lolita boy when he didn’t get his way as a quiet giant hovered nearby and the ever more frequent glances she gave towards a bespectacled accountant ran through her head in quick procession as she looked over each of the areas she had come to know like the back of her hand.  
  
She shook her head as the thought of Kyoya entered her mind again for the hundredth time that day. They had grown so much closer since graduation and tried to have dinner once a week, but their schooling had hampered their routine quite a bit in the last few months. Something Haruhi hated. She knew she could never act on her feelings, but it didn’t mean she didn’t want to take every opportunity to spend time with him. She missed him but not quite in the same way she missed the twins or the rest of the hosts even though she was lucky enough to see them every few months. Seeing them every day for the club had become so ingrained in her routine that it was like ripping off six band-aids every day when they weren’t there. Though Kyoya’s absence was always more difficult for her to deal with.   
  
Haruhi cleared her throat in an attempt to quash her thoughts about Kyoya. She wheeled the cart provided to her to where Mr. Suoh had said all the boxes that needed to be moved were. She needed to focus on the task given to her. She had to be home in no more than four hours to turn in an online case study paper that counted as a third of her grade. She adjusted her ponytail and stared into the room. Her jaw slacked as an uncomely look of utter shock spread over her delicate features. “You have got to be kidding me.” The room was filled with what had to be at least fifty large boxes strewn messily around the room. Quite a few boxes had their contents spilled all over the place. Clothing and teacups were littered all over the floor and Haruhi cringed as her eyes found a rare antique Wedgwood tea set lying shattered unceremoniously on the carpet. PTSD flashes of the vase she broken in her first year streamed through her mind and she shuddered, “Oh, God, no.”   
  
She knelt down and tenderly picked up each beautiful navy blue shard of ceramic as if she was in mourning for each fragment. She placed them carefully onto a nearby desk and then continued her exploration into the disaster of a once pristine room. Haruhi spent the next half hour just doing damage control. She up-righted boxes that had been tossed aside carelessly, shuddering when she heard the telltale jingle of broken china. She stuffed costumes vigorously back into the cardboard containers, cringing at the wrinkles and tears in the expensive silk and lace. Haruhi huffed in disgust when a box she found in the corner was mildewed and damp from someone packing a teapot still full of liquid. It had ruined the carpet underneath and the satin table cloths inside smelled rancid.   
  
Haruhi groaned aloud, “No wonder the club failed. This is awful!” She pushed past a tall pillar of unmarked boxes and flung back the curtain of the changing room she had often used. There was a single small box sitting there, the flaps open. She peered inside and saw only a few scraps of fabric that looked like satin sashes. She lifted the box and it felt heavier than it should've been. She carried it out to place on the table next to the shattered tea set and pulled the strips of material out of the box and immediately dropped them to the floor when she realized what was resting at the bottom. Three large black leather-bound notebooks were stacked neatly inside.   
  
She would recognize these books anywhere. After all, she had watched their owner diligently scribbling away at the pages every day for almost four years. These were Kyoya’s. Haruhi pulled one delicately from the cardboard and stared at it rubbing her hand against the supple leather. Surely they couldn’t be his…Kyoya was never one to leave something this important behind. Right? They had to have been new ones, gifted to the next Host club accountant. Right? Haruhi pried open the supple cover and what greeted her eyes made her smile and gasp at the same time. ‘Mommy’s Host Club Agenda’. It was dated for the second year she attended Ouran. She flipped to the next page and saw the small sharp letters that consisted of dates, tasks, plans and the day’s club expenditures and profits. Notes were scribbled there too, showing tips and ideas to increase said profit. The occasional ‘Tamaki is an idiot.’ or ‘The twins are infuriating.’ graced the margins. Haruhi couldn’t help but laugh out loud.   
  
Haruhi stopped thumbing through the pages at a section that was held together with a gold paper clip. She rolled her eyes, “Of course it’s gold. Probably twenty-four carat too. Rich bastards.” On the top page was a single string of random numbers and letters. She ignored them as she pulled the clip from the group of pages in the center of the book and flipped to the next one. She didn’t understand what she was looking at. To her, it looked like even more random numbers and letters, both lower and upper case with tiny drawn fish tossed in at regular intervals. When none of it read properly to her, she realized it was code. Her eyes lit up and she felt a sense of mischief creep up her spine at the thought of trying to crack it. She looked around the room to make sure no one was there, even knowing she was alone. Is this how the twins felt while they did their scheming? Haruhi smiled and looked over to the nearest open box. She yanked a flap off to use as paper and pulled the heavy pen away from the inside jacket of the notebook and grinned. She rubbed at the cold metal gently while imagining Kyoya's long fingers holding it, warming it, as he penned along the pages.   
  
She bit her lip and began to study the code laid out before her. Some of the characters had a single dot or two next to them. That might be a period or question mark. Leave it to Kyoya to use proper punctuation in code. She snorted as she kept staring at the little elementary drawn fish scattered among the pages. They made her smile but bewildered her at the same time. They were so childlike in the sea of neat, precisely written random letters and numbers and were so unlike Kyoya. Haruhi thumbed through the rest of the book for possible clues to crack the code, stroking the side of the pen with her finger all the while, but the pages, past the clipped ones, held none. Just more plans and accounting totals. She decided to open the next two books, but they offered nothing except for even more clipped off sections of code between budgets and club ideas.   
  
Haruhi bent over the table and closed her eyes, “Kyoya, you conniving man, what is your key? She opened all three books and began looking for a pattern. After a long while, she finally found it. As complicated as it seemed, it was quite simple. In its own way. For every number he wrote down, the last letter of the spelled-out number was a letter he wanted to use, and every capitalized letter that was written conveyed a number. She figured out 1 when spelled out o.n.e., meant E, 2 was t.w.o. so represented O. The same with the letters. D was the fourth letter of the alphabet, so 4 meant f.o.u.r. and that was an R. Z was 26, t.w.e.n.t.y.s.i.x. so that was an X. She had figured out how he spelled words when his numbers and letters didn’t have one he needed. He had combined the coded character with the lower case letter needed to fill the space. 1ac1 were together a lot as a set and she figured out it spelled ‘each’. The word ‘the’ was spelled 8h1 and ‘book’ was b22k and so on.   
  
It had been more difficult to find the pattern as 1 and A both meant E and he had used both to complicate things. Pure Kyoya. The lower case letters were just letters and once she realized that, things went more quickly. With the key, Haruhi was able to decipher quite a few pages in mere minutes. The fish however still thoroughly confounded her. She decided to start spelling out more of his writings and deal with the fish later.   
  
It didn’t take long to get the first few pages of each notebook solved. Kyoya hadn’t written much for each coded entry, so when Haruhi stood straight and pulled the flap of cardboard to her face to read what she had written, the letters finally formed full sentences and she gasped. ‘How can FISH affect me so? I am an Ootori, I can not let feelings inhibit my ability to reach my goals. Though it is becoming more difficult to think around FISH. Tamaki is always around her since she is new to the club but I don’t mind since it’s bringing in quite the profit. I cannot in good conscience ask FISH to leave. What kind of Host or accountant would I be if I did? FISH smiles and lights up the room. It’s worth more than any earnings we may make just to see it every day. I must be content with that.’  
  
Haruhi frowned, “Fish? Who are you? Obviously a guest that Kyoya found attractive…” Her mind swirled through her inner catalog of girls who had become new guests around the time she had begun hosting and failed to find one he had seemed interested in. The line about Tamaki was no help either as he was attentive to each girl that graced music room three. Haruhi sighed in frustration. All of the boxes scattered around her laid forgotten as she now focused on decoding more of the passages. She was determined to figure out who FISH was. However, she started to feel guilty with the more she uncovered. She was invading his privacy after all. Though certain random words drove her on, guilt subsiding as determination replaced it. Words she had never heard Kyoya speak were sprawled across the pages in code, ‘beauty, infatuation, want, need, blushing, love’ Haruhi paused when she had written down the last line from the third notebook.  
  
Haruhi dropped the pen as she read it aloud, ‘FISH, I know now what I have been feeling is love. I never thought I was capable. You have taught me otherwise. I love you. Little, confounding, FISH.’ She looked at her messy handwriting staring up at her from the cardboard slab, small glistening gold paper clips strewn around it like a halo, and she shivered. Confounding, that she understood. Who was FISH?! She knew that whoever this was about, Kyoya never meant for anyone to find out. It made sense. Haruhi knew his father was adamant about his third ‘castaway’ of a son, Kyoya’s words not hers, marrying someone arranged for him. Marrying only to bring some sort of additional value or power to their name. Even though Kyoya had always fought to do so for himself. In her eyes, he was more of an Ootori than his brothers. Just because he was the third son didn’t mean he was a counterfeit Ootori, any less worthy of the name. Though in the eyes of the rich, birth rank often made second or third-born children viewed as just that. Less worthy. His father just had to stick to those archaic archetypes. Damn rich bastards. Kyoya had proven that he was more than deserving to hold the name Ootori. Everyone saw that. At least everyone but his oblivious and over-demanding father.   
  
Haruhi frowned and became enraged as she often did when Kyoya spoke to her about it. It wasn’t as if he could help the fact that his father kept having children. If it were such an important thing to him then maybe Mr. Ootori should have been neutered, much like the dog Haruhi thought of him as. Haruhi always came to Kyoya’s defense, reminding him of how amazing he was. How much better he was than his no-good brothers who were to inherit everything just for being born before him. She told Kyoya time and again that she didn’t care about when he was born or that he was the third son or even rich, but rather, how glad she was he was in her life and how proud she was of him. She always said with a wink that she couldn’t wait to watch him take the empire by force. He always gave her a bright smile shown only to her at her words. Haruhi would gladly say anything to make him feel better. Even if it meant outright insulting his father or brothers just so she could see that special and rare grin directed at her. Kyoya deserved happiness.  
  
She ground her teeth and gripped at the edge of the table in her fury towards the senior Ootori. Kyoya had loved, he found someone he wanted to be with, but she knew his father would never allow it. A sudden flash of her in a white gown walking down the aisle towards the slender gray-eyed man forced its way into her head and she choked on her saliva. She shook her head, “No, Haruhi. It…could never be you. You know that. Idiot.” She wiped at a damp spot on her cheek not aware of when she had begun to tear up while thinking about this whole scenario. Much like the twins and Tamaki would, she began to think of ways to find out who FISH was and to bring Kyoya and her together. A sharp pain stung behind her left breast at the thought, but she was a Host and Tamaki had always said, ‘If a girl is sad, it’s our job as Hosts, to make her smile. Make her happy.’ Kyoya was no girl, but he was sad, and she needed to fix it. As a host, as his friend, and because she cared for him deeply. Deeper than she had for anyone, but she could never let him know that. Though she could help him find love even if it wasn’t with her.   
  
She forced down her doleful thoughts and yanked the cardboard up again to read out loud as a sort of mission launching statement, “Fish, I know now what I feel is love. I never thought I was capable. You have taught me otherwise. I love you.” Haruhi heard a solid thunk from behind her. She squeaked and spun around towards the noise. Inside the doorway of the room stood a tall, slender, shaken looking Kyoya. He had dropped his phone onto the plush carpet and as he went to retrieve it, Haruhi thrust the long piece of cardboard behind her back, “Kyo…uh, hey!” He didn’t answer her as he glanced around her form to the notebooks, pen, and golden paperclips tossed messily around the broken china set. His brow furrowed and he shoved his glasses hard onto his nose obscuring his beautiful gray eyes from hers with a bright white glint. Haruhi gulped and tried again, “Uh, Kyo? Kyoya…Senpai?” She hadn’t used the honorific in years, but she felt very much like a student unworthy of his gaze at the moment. Kyoya’s head tilted at the title and he took a step inside the room, “My. Haruhi, still destroying precious things are we?” Haruhi knew he was speaking about more than just the tea set and an uncomfortable feeling settled into the pit of her stomach, “Uh…I…no…I didn’t break that…I…” Kyoya clasped his hands behind his back and took another few steps inside the room glancing around. He clicked his tongue and then with another graceful step was sidling up next to her and the desk. He pulled a gold paper clip from the surface and flipped it in-between his fingers, “Always getting into trouble. Find anything interesting?”   
  
Knowing she had been caught red-handed she found no reason to lie to him. He was her closest friend after all. Even still, she couldn’t get her heart under control. It pounded like a jackhammer under her ribs and she felt like she should run. She wouldn’t though, she decided the truth was best. It was her after all who had invaded his space so she owed him an explanation, “I…Kyoya, first, I want to apologize. Please let me explain.” Kyoya crossed his arms, “Please. Do.” Haruhi cast her eyes down to her feet when he didn’t acknowledge her apology, “I thought these books were just accounting stuff. I didn’t even think they were yours at first. When I realized there was a code inside, I had to figure it out. I couldn’t help it. I know shouldn't have…but…but I want to help…now that I know. I’m sorry Kyoya, Senpai.” Haruhi gulped in much-needed oxygen, having used the last, to say more than what should have been possible in one breath.  
  
She stood still as Kyoya stared down at her. He then flicked the gold paperclip across the room and leaned down onto his arm on the table’s surface to meet her eyes, “First, Haruhi, stop calling me that. Second, help? Haruhi, how on Earth do you wish to help knowing what you do? Help isn’t what I would expect to hear you offer now that you know. I am a bit confused as to how you think you could possibly help…and how you honestly think that is an appropriate response to my…writings.” Haruhi flinched as his tone took on one of sheer annoyance. “I…”   
  
Haruhi brought the cardboard out from behind her back, showing him her messy scrawls against it, “Kyo…I want to help you because…well…we are close right? Best friends even?” She paused waiting for his affirmation and she realized she couldn’t continue without it. At his slight nod, she let out a small breath and continued, “I want you to be happy. Your father…or anyone else…be damned.” Kyoya’s eyebrows raised slightly above his lenses but he stayed stoic. His glasses still sheltered his gray orbs from her so she couldn’t see how he was truly feeling. If his voice was any indication, he rather was upset with her. She nervously placed the cardboard onto the desk and reached out to lightly touch his shoulder. When he stood to break their contact her heart cracked a little bit. Pulling her fist against her chest as if it had been burned, she whispered, “Kyoya…Sen…Kyoya…” Her throat had constricted at his maneuver but she cleared her throat and spoke again, “You found someone. I want to help by bringing you back together. Fish, I don’t know who that is, but if you loved her you still might right? And…and I want you to be happy.”   
  
She waited with bated breath for him to speak. She was unsure if he was still angry, unsure if he still wanted to be friends since she had crossed a definite line in their relationship. Though it was more like she had pole-vaulted over it. She would understand if he didn't. It would kill her, just like seeing him with Fish probably would, but she would understand and she would not keep him from happiness. She expected him to yell at her and walk away and out of the room, and her life, at any second. What she didn’t expect was the full-on laughter that bubbled up from his chest to quickly fill the room. He once again braced himself on the desk as his chuckles bent him over at the waist. He laughed and laughed and wiped at the corner of his eye as he finally got his fit under control. Haruhi couldn’t help but to look at him like he had lost his mind, “Kyo?” Kyoya took a deep breath, trying to get the last few bits of mirth under control, “My dear, Haruhi. You never cracked the whole code did you?”   
  
Haruhi turned to glance back down at the notebooks strewn across the desk, “Um…I did…well, all but the little drawing of a fish. I know it represents someone but I don’t know who.” Kyoya nodded, “As I thought. That’s the most important piece of the code, and quite frankly the easiest to solve.” Haruhi’s brow furrowed as she turned and stared back at the multiple pages with the tiny fish drawn all over, “I…I thought it was a name but the only girls with names that come close to sounding like fish in Japanese are Sakuna and that British transfer, Margaret. Though they didn’t start coming to the club until well after you wrote…” Haruhi paused as she felt Kyoya place his arms on either side of her, pressing his chest into her back and wrapping around her like a human cage. He clicked his tongue once more and rested his chin on her shoulder, “Look again, Haruhi. What is the last letter in the word fish?” Haruhi frowned as her mind tried to answer while she was becoming completely distracted by his close presence. Had he ever gotten this close before? She inhaled deeply and let out a shaky, “H.” She felt Kyoya nod against her shoulder, “Correct. And who do I know that loves fish? Specifically fancy tuna?”   
  
Haruhi felt the warmth of Kyoya’s breath tickle against her neck and reveled in it. It was like a cozy blanket she never wanted to leave, but now she was also hungry for tuna since she had skipped lunch that day. It took her a second to wade through her current thoughts to digest and truly think about the words he had said, “Fancy tuna?” A small gasp escaped her lips, “H…fancy tuna…Me?” Kyoya chuckled and she felt the reverb of it which sent tingles down her spine, “No. That is incorrect.” Haruhi wilted at the words and she felt tears well up as hope was quickly dashed and replaced with a full dose of embarrassment. She felt strong hands grip her shoulders and spin her around so she was then face to face with a solid dark purple-clad chest, “Haruhi, I know you are not this dense.” She grimaced at the insult, her insecurities and vulnerabilities not able to take another hit, “I… don't under…” Kyoya smiled and yanked her into a tight embrace which caused the air to leave her lungs in a rush, “The correct answer was, Haruhi.” She squeaked again in surprise. Squeaking was so unbecoming she thought. She blamed her heart for her brain being unable to follow his words. Though once head and heart had finally synced in their complicated communication she sobbed in elation, “H…Haruhi…kinda what I said. That’s me.”   
  
Kyoya lifted her chin and thumbed at the tears streaming down her alabaster cheeks, “Me, starts with M, therefore, is incorrect. Come Haruhi, being as smart as you are, you must realize that was never an acceptable answer.” Haruhi looked at his now unveiled stormy eyes and saw only mirth and elation there. He was teasing her. Haruhi huffed, “You, Mr. Ootori, are incorrigible. You knew damn well what I meant.” She pushed up on her tiptoes so that her face was level with his. She paused and looked at his lips. A small whisper escaped, “Can I kiss you?” Kyoya looked slightly surprised, “Miss Fujioka, can I gather that you may feel the same way about me?” Haruhi scoffed, “Not at all.” She paused to torture him a bit as he had her, but the smile that crept to her lips gave her away, “K is for Kyoya, not me. I…love Kyoya Ootori. I thought you were intelligent enough to know that was the correct answer.” He rolled his eyes, “That’s a reach.” Haruhi shrugged and was elated when she felt his lips press against hers. They stayed that way for a long while creating new memories while the old ones laid silent against the chaos of old broken and wrinkled items strewn about the room.   
  
Their newfound reverie was broken as a shrill voice sounded from the doorway, “Mommy! You and Daughter have finally found one another! At last!” Haruhi and Kyoya jumped but held onto one another as they glanced at the doorway. Tamaki, the twins, Honey and Mori all stood smiling at the pair. As the two straightened their askew clothing, the other hosts walked further in and began to explore the boxes, opening each one and pulling out tea sets and costumes as if they hadn't just walked in on something intimate. Kyoya rolled his eyes at their antics as Tamaki swirled around in a hastily pulled on a bright yellow dress stained with tea and something brown that was hopefully chocolate, “Haruhi! This would look lovely on you! You should take it!” Haruhi frowned, “No way in Hell, Senpai.”  
  
Tamaki pouted and went to sulk on a dusty chaise. Haruhi sighed, “Besides, we are supposed to be clearing this all away anyway.” Kyoya shifted his glasses, “No worries, I’ll have a crew come and take it away. It will be sorted through properly and dealt with accordingly. Nothing will be trash, unless…” He gave a side glance to the shattered Wedgwood on the desk. Haruhi huffed, “Hey, Shadow King! I told you I didn’t break it! This place is in shambles! It wasn’t me!” Haruhi pinked and reddened as all of them laughed at her outburst. Kyoya leaned down and quietly whispered as he stroked her arm with his long fingers, “You know how you could always pay me back.” Haruhi socked him in the shoulder and harshly whispered back as her cheeks flamed a bright pink, “A confession does not mean that…not right away anyway.” Kyoya was laughing again as her face reddened further and he flashed her the special smile she loved so much. She smiled back and sighed happily as he gently pecked her mouth with his own, “I’m kidding Haruhi. I look forward to the wait, my little Fish.”   
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Story #1 - Soul Eater Fandom:  
[Love Letters To Maka](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20619683)
> 
> Japanese names for fish/tuna: SAKANA and MARGURO. Sakuna and Margaret were the names I came up with that fit the Japanese words for fish without actually meaning fish. What awful parents you would have if they named you fish. 


End file.
